


Eight Months Later

by 20BlueBoy19



Series: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Frank Sinatra music!, M/M, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but trust me it's not terrible okay, don't get drunk, it'll make things weird, mentions to DLC, still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20BlueBoy19/pseuds/20BlueBoy19
Summary: “Your looks are laughable,”Nick absently touched the broken flesh on his face.“Un-photographable. Yet you’re my faaaaaaavorite work of art.”The corner of the synth’s mouth rose to a fraction of a smile.





	1. Chapter 1

“30 caps if you go up there and sing when Magnolia’s done.”

“Fuck you, buddy.” Saylor said, regretting how he told Nick about his needing 30 caps to buy a new gun he’d been eyeing. “I know the game you’re playing. 40 if _you_ sing.”

Nick made a small, unhappy noise. Fortunately, Saylor knew that Nick needed to spend 40 caps on some new buttons for his trench coat and dress shirt.

Nick smirked. “Hear this, buddy my friend. 50 caps and 5 packs of bubble-gum for Shaun if you go up there and sing with no instrumentals.”

“You can’t bring family into this!”

“We never agreed on that. And what’re you gonna do, try and bribe me by offering to give DiMA pants?”

“Ahhh… I’ll do it. But I’m not gonna talk to you ever again.”

Nick wagged his finger. “Tsk, tsk. Keep that up and I’ll have to call the deal off.”

Saylor groaned at Nick and downed the rest of his beer. He jumped off of his barstool and walked over to Whitechapel Charlie, explaining the situation and the bet. The old bot didn’t seem too pleased (was he ever?) but agreed to it;”A’least I might get meself a laugh outta it.”

Not wanting to go back to Nick, Saylor ordered another beer and drank it, waiting for Magnolia to finish. He didn’t realize that was his fourth already. But he wasn’t feeling _that_ drunk…

The woman finished her song and Saylor stepped into her place. He glanced at the crowd. Not that many people. Feeling a little wobbly, he grasped onto the microphone pole and sang the first song that came to mind.

“My funny valentine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, but Saylor couldn’t really see. Everything was moving so fast. Damn, he shoulda listened to more music back in the day. It felt like this as the only song he remembered.

“Sweet, comic valentine. You make me smiiiiiiiiiile, with my heart.”

Nick was really, really confused now, but his synthetic face was hard to read, made even harder by Saylor not being able to see anything except vague colors now.

“Your looks are laughable,” Nick absently touched the broken flesh on his face.

“Un-photographable. Yet you’re my faaaaaaavorite work of art.”

The corner of the synth’s mouth rose to a fraction of a smile.

“Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mooouth a little weak? When you ah-open it to speak, aaare you smaaaaaaaaart?

“But don’t change a hair for me. Not if you care for me.”

Nick smiled fondly.

“Stay little valentine-“

 _I’m not **that** short_ …

“Staaaaaaaay!”

Saylor’s voice dipped low. He was singing embarrassingly well.

“Each day, is valentine’s daaaaaaaaaaaaaay.”

The sparse crowd grumbled. They weren’t here to listen to good music, they were here to drink. They didn’t ask to have an amazing- and aesthetically pleasing- man go up and sing beautifully enough that they would lay down their beers. The nerve of some people.

Saylor seemed very unsteady on his feet and looked as drunk as he was. Nick went up to the small stage and picked up the man, tipping Charlie and Magnolia 5 caps each for letting him sing. Charlie took the money greedily, meanwhile Magnolia refused to pick it up; “Singers like that don’t come around often if at all. I shouldn’t be paid to listen. If anything, I should give _him_ money.”


	2. 2

Saylor woke up confused. His head was throbbing with a hangover.

The dirty sheets crumpled under him as he sat up to gather his surroundings. When did he check into the Rexford? On the bedside table next to him was a pile of caps and five packs of gum. Oh.

_Oh._

_OH_.

Saylor silently punched himself in the face and his cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment.

Sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed and not facing him was a certain synth detective reading old copies of the Boston Bugle. Smoke curled through the air from a cigarette he held in his metal hand. “How ya feeling?”

Saylor didn’t answer. “What song did I sing last night?”

Nick put the cigarette in his lips and smirked. He sang the first line in a heavenly voice. “My funny valentine…”

Immediately Saylor groaned fell onto the bed, firmly pushing a pillow into his face.

“Hey, hey!” Nick chuckled. “It’s okay, really. Just didn’t know you thought I was so ugly, s’all.” He teased.

“It wasn’t about you.” A small part of Nick protested to that. “It was just the only song I could remember.”

“Uh-huh…”

Saylor took the pillow off of his face and threw it at Nick playfully. “Really? Did cop Nick ever listen to good music?”

“He did, but I never remembered hearing _that_ song. Nice way to get an old bot’s attention…”

“Really, Nick! I’ll find a copy of it! I don’t… augh!”

“Hmm? Don’t what?”

“You really are an overconfident ass.”

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll find a copy of it.”

“Oh-kay.”

“What?” Saylor asked, wondering why Nick suddenly stopped his prying.

“Nothin’, just if you’re not ready to admit it yet…”

Saylor interrupted him by hitting him playfully again and again with the pillow while Nick laughed and raised his arms in surrender. When Saylor finally stopped, it was silent for a few seconds. Then Nick whispered, “throwing pillows might ruin your ‘favorite work of-“

Saylor jumped off of the bed. “That’s it; we’re going to Diamond City. Travis probably has a copy of it.”

The end of the cigarette became a pile of dust when Nick extinguished it in an ashtray. “Naturally.”


	3. 3

“Well, would’ya look at that.”  
The three of them watched the holotape player as the seconds passed by. Frank Sinatra’s wonderful voice filled the room.  
When the song was over, Saylor clicked the ‘eject’ button and handed the holotape back to Travis, thanking him.  
“Ah-uh, yeah, s-sure. Uhm. You- you’re welcome.”  
Nick and Saylor departed from the radio station and walked the alleyways to the Valentine Detective Agency.  
“See? Told you it was a song.”  
Nick inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, the gray gas filtering through his wires and inner working before departing through the open sides of his jaw. “I’m not a vain man, I can admit when I’m wrong. But why’d you choose to sing it?”  
Saylor exhaled. “It was the only song I could think of at the time.”  
“Why’s that?”  
“It’s always been one of my favorites. Hey, you’re off of the job, can’t you lay off the probing for a bit?”  
“I’m a detective. I’m gunna detect.”  
“Hmph.”  
“But in all seriousness, nice job. You have a real good voice.”  
“Thanks.”  
The pink heart sign in front of the Agency hid the blush dominating Saylor’s face as he wished Nick goodnight.


End file.
